OK, so it was requested of me to update my LJ. Some people say they need something new to read and are tired of reading about pork livers.
So here we go.
I’ll write about our trip to Marche last week (“our” meaning Becky, Scott, Neeka, and me.) So we sit down in the usual spot by the stairs to eat our much deserved supper. Shortly into our meal, the fire alarm goes off.
Sidenote: I have never been to Marche where something weird hasn’t happened. Whether it’s people getting sick and puking on the table (it wasn’t me), or receiving a used to-go container from one of the help, something always happens. This time it’s the fire alarm.
So this isn’t just any fire alarm. The minute the alarm stations start blaring and flashing lights, these huge metal garage door-like things drop down and block off most of the exits. Very wise feature to have incase of a fire. :o/ It was as if someone had robbed a jewelry store and bars come down blocking the entrance so they’re trapped inside.
This goes on for quite a while. Despite the atmosphere of noise and lights, we go ahead with our eating, because it’s obviously a false alarm… all except Neeka that is. She’s trying to sit still without panicking, but then finally jumps out of her seat and says, loud enough for the surrounding tables to hear, “THIS COULD BE ARMAGEDDON!!” So of course, people turn around and look. The odd thing is, this is something a senial, old lady would probably say, not an 11-year-old. So this was funny. Finally, after about 20 or so minutes of loudness and firefighters tromping through, killing the Euro-ish atmosphere, the emergency is over and we are at peace.
That was my experience at Marche. Funny thing afterward as we leave, this homeless lady approches Scott outside Marche and says in a pitiful voice, “Please help me, sir. I’m homeless and hungry,” to which he replies with a smile, “That’s OK.” That’s getting quoted. I never understood why homeless people beg for food in expensive places. I think they’d have more of a chance getting food from someone outside a McDonald’s or something. Granted, it may have enema juice in it, but then again, beggers can’t be choosers.
But that’s OK.